Bermuda Day 4

Dear Blog

 

Day Four Friday August 28^th Bermuda

 

We headed to the beach today, keeping up our Bermuda tradition of visiting Long Bay Beach at Cambridge Beaches Resort & Spa on the west end. Getting there was easy — a quick 20‑minute ferry from Hamilton to Dockyard, then a five‑mile taxi ride that seemed longer due to traffic on a two-lane road with road‑repair projects.

 

We discovered this beach years ago completely by accident. Back then, we took a bus from Hamilton to Daniel’s Head, expecting postcard perfection. Daniel’s Head is gorgeous — we just happened to arrive at the one sad corner with a broken‑down snack stand that looked like it hadn’t served a sandwich since 1998 Not exactly the image you would see in a Bermuda brochure.

 

So, we did what any determined vacationers would do: we spotted a beautiful coastline in the distance and started wandering. We strolled through quiet little streets for about a mile until we stumbled onto this stunning resort and it’s even more stunning beach. We spent the afternoon swimming, lounging, and having lunch at Breezes restaurant right by the water… only to discover later that the beach belonged to an exclusive resort and technically wasn’t meant for non‑guests. Oops... but in our defense, it was too beautiful not to enjoy.

 

This time we made proper lunch reservations at Breezes restaurant, and yes… we headed straight back to their private beach. It remains hands down the most beautiful beach we’ve ever visited anyplace in the world. The water is stunning turquoise, perfectly calm, warm and you can walk nearly a hundred yards before it even reaches your waist.

 

We spent the whole morning basking in the sun, swimming and floating around then wandered up for lunch overlooking the bay with a frozen margarita in hand.

 

The beach, as always, was perfect—though one thing stood out. I didn’t see a single butler serving drinks to anyone in the water. Years ago, Jay had a drink delivered to him while he was standing knee‑deep water. It was one of those little touches that made the service feel extraordinary. They don’t do that anymore, you gotta walk ten yards to the bar yourself. Devastating right?

 

Back at the hotel, we wandered over to the Wine Down event on the hotel’s pool deck —supposedly a popular event featuring an hour and a half of tasting fabulous wines, but we ended up being the only ones in attendance so we opted out and went in search of dinner.

 

Clarabell’s restaurant is a popular spot in Hamilton that just happens to be right in our hotel. They are famous for their pizza, and we can confirm the reputation is earned. It’s wood-fired and the Bermuda humidity is said to work magic on pizza dough hydrating. It rises airy and stretchy, never dense or chewy. It was delicious and our best meal yet. But let’s be real it could be the humidity, or it could be the fact that we were eating pizza in a bar in Bermuda on vacation. LOL

 

Hamilton is famous for having an endless supply of great local places to eat — with one quirky exception. Bermuda doesn’t allow foreign fast‑food franchises like McDonald’s. The island passed two laws, including the Foreign Restaurants Act of 1977, specifically to preserve Bermuda’s unique character, protect small local eateries, and keep its signature “Old World” charm.

 

There’s one loophole in Bermuda’s “no franchises allowed” rule: the island has one KFC — a lone, survivor that slipped in before the 1977 ban and was grandfathered in and yes, it’s said to be shockingly popular. Locals lovingly refer to it as the forbidden chicken.  Tourists take photos like it’s a landmark.

 

After our pizza we strolled down the block to Harry’s bar and had a cocktail, enjoying one of the best marina views in Hamilton, appreciating the modern, relaxed setting that felt upscale without being formal, exactly our kind of place. Then we made our way back to the hotel, which was a short easy stroll.

 

It turned into one of those easy vacation days where you swim, eat, sip, wander, drink, repeat — because honestly, isn’t that the whole point of being away?

 

So, you are asking about the weather? Let me put it this way: it’s warm, very warm, it’s humid. Even the locals are fanning themselves and comment, “Yeah it’s a bit much.”

 

But one dip in the pool or one cold drink gets you thinking, “Why don’t we live here?”

 

 

 

Bermuda Day 3

Dear Blog

 

Day three August 27^th Bermuda

 

Our room is small but cozy, tucked upstairs with a nice view of the garden and pool at the Rosedon Hotel. It’s furnished in a beautifully appointed colonial style, and the whole property is wonderfully quiet. Being an adults‑only hotel is a real bonus — especially when it comes to enjoying the pool, with no kids yelling “MARCO!” “POLO!” every 3 seconds.

 

We headed out early and went for a morning walk along Front Street and the waterfront. This is what I would call the postcard stretch, good for photo ops. Ferries were coming and going, joggers were out, and the city was just waking up.

 

We stopped at one of Bermuda’s most‑photographed spots, the Birdcage. This is the blue‑and‑white traffic tower where Bermuda’s “dancing traffic cops” once directed cars. Traffic lights eventually made the job unnecessary. The Birdcage name comes from Geoffrey “Dickie” Bird, Hamilton’s first City Engineer. In 1962, he designed the raised, covered tower to protect officers from the sun and rain — and since Dicky Bird built the cage, everyone just started calling it the “Birdcage”.

 

We wandered through Queen Elizabeth Park, enjoying the cool shade of the trees and the quiet benches tucked beneath them. From there, we strolled past City Hall and the Arts Centre with its pretty little courtyard, then continued to the Cathedral of the Most Holy Trinity. We passed on the 155‑step climb to the tower—spectacular view or not. By then the day was warming up and our thirst was catching up with us.

 

Looping back toward the water, we went looking for some “Johnny Bread” a slightly sweet Bermudian treat. It’s not the traditional Bermudian breakfast of cod fish, potatoes, hard boiled eggs, avocados, bananas and tomato sauce the locals line up for, but that sounds a bit too much for us. We stumbled into bakeries offering the usual gooey, sugary jelly-filled gut bombs. They did look dangerously scrumptious, but we shared a rare moment of restraint.

 

We spent the day wandering around and “shopping”—not actually buying anything, but you’ve gotta look, right? We walked through the Hamilton Princess & Beach Club, the one everyone calls the “Pink Palace”. It’s right across the street from where we’re staying, gorgeous, and wildly expensive at about $1,200 a night. We were perfectly happy just strolling through and taking it all in.

 

We spent part of the afternoon stretched out by the pool, reading — me with Resort to Murder, soaking up all that Bermuda‑resort mystery energy, and Jay with some Jack Reacher literary masterpiece he seems obsessed with. Stretched out poolside, we ordered a cold beer and a glorious pile of french-fries instead. That’s vacation- doing exactly what feels right.

 

For dinner, we crossed the street back to the Pink Palace and settled into a waterfront table at Restaurant 1609. The harbor was glowing, the breeze was soft, and the fish tacos were genuinely terrific. Afterward, we headed out for our sunset cruise.

 

We adore sunset cruises and have taken them all over the world—Africa, the Caribbean, Spain, Greece, and probably a few places I’ve forgotten. If a boat leaves at dusk, we’re on it. There’s nothing better than sipping a rum swizzle, listening to live island music, catching the guide’s lively commentary, and watching Bermuda slowly light up as the sun slips away. Unfortunately, we waited and waited …no boat, no other passengers. No rum swizzle drinks, nothing. I guess they cancelled it probably because there aren’t many tourists in town right now or maybe the full moon scared everyone off, so we wandered down the street and let the moonlight lead us to a nightcap while enjoying the most beautiful full moon ever.

 

Tomorrow is another day in Paradise and we’re going to the beach! After all, it is Bermuda.

Bermuda Day 2

Dear Blog

 

August 26^th Day Two Bermuda

 

After a four‑hour layover in Atlanta — plenty of time for coffee at the Delta Club — our flight to Bermuda was smooth and uneventful. Bermuda airport is small, calm, organized, and impressively efficient. That’s saying something.

 

We grabbed a taxi to our hotel in Hamilton. There are only two ways to get around here: taxi or bus. Bermuda doesn’t allow visitors to rent standard cars but 2-seater mini-electric cars are available, or you can rent a scooter. Taxi drivers here don’t drive fast — there’s literally nowhere to rush to. The whole island moves at vacation speed. Even if they wanted to drive crazy, the roads are too narrow, the curves are too sharp, and someone’s grandma is always puttering along on a scooter.

 

We chose The Rosedon because it’s small—only about forty rooms—and has that true “boutique” feel instead of the usual giant hotel box. It’s a colonial‑style manor house with gardens, a pool, and three restaurants so popular that tourists staying elsewhere come here to eat. The staff greeted us warmly and even walked us to our room. They were friendly, polite, and made us feel like genuinely welcome guests. Now that’s saying something.

 

After settling in—which took maybe ten minutes because we packed light—we wandered around the grounds and decided it was officially wine time. So, we walked the short block and a half into downtown Hamilton. It’s the charming heartbeat of Bermuda.

 

We headed straight for the Hog Penny, a cozy little pub tucked right downtown, the oldest dining establishment in Hamilton and said to be the original inspiration for the Cheers Bar in Boston. We’re hoping—maybe even counting on—finding a ploughman’s lunch on the menu. During our trips to Great Britain, that simple meal has become a favorite.

 

A ploughman’s lunch is basically a charcuterie board without any of the fuss —No brie, no salami roses, no artistic drizzle. It’s honest, rustic pub food: a big hunk of sharp cheddar, crusty bread, pickles or chutney, pickled onions, and maybe a few slices of cold ham. Simple, hearty, and completely unfussy — the kind of meal a farmer could finish in five minutes before heading back to the fields.

 

Our server told us they used to offer it, but tastes have changed and the menu has shifted toward more modern British pub dishes. A little disappointing for us, but understandable — Things evolve — because apparently nothing can just stay simple anymore.

They still serve British favorites like kidney pie, shepherd’s pie, and bangers and mash, though none of those are really our go‑tos. So, we decided to try the prime rib sliders with Cheshire cheese and Branston pickle — a classic British condiment, similar to chutney but with that unmistakable sweet‑tangy pub flavor.

 

Since it was Wednesday, the whole area was gearing up for Harbour Nights—when Front Street closes to traffic and turns into a summer street festival with food booths, craft vendors, live music, dancing, and that reggae‑calypso beat we remembered from our last visit. This is what is called Gombey (GUMBEE), Bermuda’s own traditional performance style. Think of pounding drums, sharp whistles, and a mix of reggae and calypso rhythms, all wrapped in bright, eye‑popping costumes. The dancers move with this powerful, African‑inspired energy—loud, colorful, and impossible not to watch. It’s one of those things that makes you feel like you’re really in Bermuda,

 

We decided to head upstairs to Pickled Onion, right above the Hog Penny, and watch all the Harbour Nights action from above. We would love to show you some pictures, but our phone ran out of battery so you will have to come here yourself for the experience.

 

See you bright and early tomorrow.

 

Bermuda by Jain

Dear  Blog

August 25^th Day One Bermuda Here We Go!

 

We’re off to Bermuda. As usual, we started the trip at the Peppermill—well, technically we didn’t stay there last night, but we had a free room and our flight didn’t leave until 7:30 p.m., so why not spend the day by the pool and then take off? That was the plan, and honestly, it worked perfectly.

 

Why Bermuda? We’ve visited twice—first for a two‑week stay and later on a cruise—and both trips left us with the kind of memories that make you want to return. The beaches are gorgeous, the sand blush‑pink, the water that unreal turquoise that looks like someone polished a gemstone. The resorts are clean, refined, and calm. Everything feels safe, upscale, and beautifully maintained. In a seashell: Bermuda is quieter, more polished, and more serene than many Caribbean destinations. It has all the beauty without the chaos—no wild nightlife, no crowded beaches—just a peaceful, elegant place to unwind.

 

Flying to Bermuda — or honestly anywhere these days — isn’t exactly fun or easy. We ended up on red‑eyes, which I’m not a fan of, but they are cheaper and at least you skip the big daytime crowds. The layovers, though… totally terrible. Still, going from RNO to LAX to ATL and then on to BDA isn’t the worst routing out there but comes close. And really, Bermuda is off the East Coast and we’re on the West, so what can you do?

 

When people think of Bermuda, a few familiar images usually pop up: Bermuda shorts, the Bermuda Triangle, Bermuda onions, the island’s British ties, and the notion that it’s not exactly budget‑friendly. Here’s what we’ve actually seen.

 

Bermudian men really do wear Bermuda shorts as business attire — long socks, polished shoes, and a sport coat. It’s British formality adjusted for warm weather.

The Bermuda Triangle—often described as spanning Puerto Rico, Florida, and Bermuda—is mostly a legend. It doesn’t appear on any official map, and there’s no scientific evidence that this busy stretch of ocean is any more dangerous than any other. Still, the stories endure, fueled by curiosity, fear, imagination, and the thrill of the unknown, because we like that stuff.

 

Bermuda onions were a big deal back in the early 1900s—famous worldwide and shipped everywhere. These days, they’re no longer exported. With only 21 square miles to work with, the island needs its land for homes, hotels, and golf courses. And after living in Washington state for twenty years, we can confirm Walla Walla grows the same sweet onion… for a whole lot less.

 

Bermuda maybe under Britain’s sovereignty, but Bermudians run their own country. The island takes pride in its British roots— you see it in the left‑side driving, the colonial architecture, even the occasional afternoon tea. But ask any Bermudian, and they’ll tell you they’re Bermudian first. They drink more rum than beer, their food traditions lean West African and Caribbean, and their identity comes straight from the island itself — its history, its rhythms, its personality. It’s not something handed down from the Crown.

 

And yes, Bermuda is expensive, is currently ranked one the most expensive places in the world  It’s a tiny island that imports almost everything, has limited land, high wages, and a very high standard of living — it all adds up. But is a trip here worth it? Absolutely It’s peaceful beauty and the price feels justified by the experience. We’d stay for a month if we could… but we’d have to sell the house, and our cat would be out of a home.

 

Bye for now — we should be touching down this afternoon around 2:30 p.m., provided the Bermuda Triangle doesn’t rise like a shadowy legend beneath us and rewrite our flight path into something far more… memorable.

Sedona

Blog

 

Day Six Grand Canyon Trip

 

This morning we drove up to the Sedona Airport for breakfast and a panoramic look at the whole valley. It’s one of the few places where you get the full Sedona skyline without breaking a sweat. Sunset is the most popular hour, but we’ve heard it becomes a packed spectacle. Morning, though—that’s the sweet spot. 

From our hotel it’s only about 2½ miles to the airport, but the road climbs 500 feet in a single mile—so, yes, it’s a haul. We drove up and parked in the upper lot by the Mesa Grill so we could soak in the views first, then wander in for breakfast. 

We walked across the road to an overlook with classic 360‑degree postcard views—the kind that make people stop mid‑stride and let out an “ahhh.” After Jay takes a million photos—because that’s what everyone does now, just keep shooting and sort it out later—we head for the Airport Mesa Grill for coffee and breakfast. We grabbed a table on the patio and watched little planes drift in and out of the airport. It feels like you’re sitting on a balcony above the world — red rocks in every direction, the soft buzz of takeoffs just beyond the railing. Pure Sedona, and yes, we were fully in vacation mode.

 

Sedona Airport holds a special place in Jay’s memory. In his 20’s as a firefighter in El Cajon he worked his days off at Gillespie airfield as a pilot/flight instructor and occasionally flew passengers for hire. On one flight, the passenger became aggressive, pointed a gun at Jay and insisted on a change in destination. The passenger forced Jay to land at Needles airport near the Colorado river. Jay exited the plane and the passenger took off with the plane in an easterly direction. Jay knew there was a federal Flight Service Station at the opposite end of the field. He ran the mile and burst into the office, out of breath, startling the officials and described his experience and the operators put out an APB to all airports and law enforcement agencies within 1,000 miles and a deputy sheriff in Sedona captured the plane and pilot when he landed there. 

After we got back to the hotel, we wandered over to lounge by the pool. Since our place is on the smaller side, we’re allowed to use the pool next door at the upscale Los Abrigados Hilton — just a two‑minute stroll from our room. Plenty of people go there for the whole luxury‑spa‑day experience, but for us, a simple dip was the perfect cool‑down. Turns out the pool is salt water — supposedly healthier, though it’s never been my favorite. No matter what anyone claims, salt water always stings my eyes. 

After washing off the salt water, we wandered over to Oak Creek Brewery & Grill for their infamous happy hour. The place was loud and loose, full of people. This spot is known for its Seven Dwarf shots, everything from Doc (fruit punch) to Grumpy (Gold schlager with a graham‑cracker rim) to Happy (chocolate and caramel vodka).  The folks here looked like they’d already sampled a dwarf or two.

I stayed loyal to my six‑dollar wine, though I’d absolutely try the Happy shot if it were after dinner. 

When the sun finally slid behind the red rocks, we made our way to El Rincón, a Mexican restaurant that has a quiet serene courtyard. It was a nice way to end our day and our trip. Thank you for coming along. 

Tomorrow, we head home to our cat, who will pretend she didn’t even notice we were gone.

 

Sedona AZ

Dear Blog

 

Day Five Grand Canyon Trip

 

 

This morning we decided to stick with two easy walks right in Sedona. There are countless hiking options in the area, but we didn’t feel like moving the car, fighting for parking, or tackling anything strenuous — especially with temperatures heading into the high‑80s before noon.

 

Our first walk was the Los Abrigados walking route. It’s a gentle, scenic, creek side stroll that winds through landscaped paths, small bridges, and shaded areas along Oak Creek. It connects the resort area to Tlaquepaque Arts & Shopping Village and offers pretty red‑rock glimpses without feeling like a wilderness hike. It’s about a half‑mile and very peaceful.

 

The second walk was the Sedona Outlook Trail. This one is also about a half‑mile — a short, gently sloping path that leads to a wide, open overlook with sweeping views of Sedona’s major rock formations. It’s the kind of spot where people pause to take photos, breathe in the air, and just soak in the panorama. A friend suggested the Pink Jeep Tour so we strolled over to check it out but the moment we saw a jeep pulling out stuffed with eight people on bench seats, we opted out, anticipating 94 degree heat played heavily in that decision.

 

In the afternoon we did some winetasting.  We walked to the Art of Wine. It is said to be a trendy and lively place, but we wound up being the only ones there. The Sommelier instantly felt like an old friend sharing her travel stories with us. We ended up staying two hours.

 

In Sedona you’re never short on dinner options, but we decided to try our luck at Hideaway House. Since it was Father’s Day, we headed over early. The restaurant sits on a hillside with big open‑air patios that look straight out toward the red rocks — not a dramatic cliff‑top view, but something more intimate, cozy, and close to the canyon walls. We managed to snag a patio table around 5pm, just as the warm canyon glow started settling in. Sunset hits around 6:30, so the timing was perfect for those soft golden views Sedona does so well.

 

The menu at Hideaway House leans into comfort‑forward Italian with a home‑style twist — fresh‑made breads, hearty pastas, vibrant salads, and creative specialty pizzas, all served with those relaxed Sedona views. But honestly, we realized we didn’t need the whole menu. We decided to share the Garlic Cheese Bread Blossom, the meatballs, and a glass of red wine — and that was perfect. The bread blossom comes out as a warm, fresh‑baked loaf packed with garlic, melted mozzarella, and parmesan, served with their house‑made marinara for dipping. The meatballs were juicy, tender, and cheesy, exactly the kind of comfort food that fits the setting. That’s it.

 

Tomorrow it’s supposed to hit 97 degrees so the odds of doing a lot of walking are slim. We’ll probably hit the pool instead.

Grand Canyon

Dear Blog

 

Day Four Grand Canyon Trip

 

This morning we left Williams and headed for Sedona, a place we’ve heard about for years but never seen for ourselves. We’d hoped to take the scenic AZ 89A drive through Oak Creek Canyon, often called one of the Southwest’s most beautiful routes, but with construction and rockfall repairs the two‑lane highway was closed so we had to go back toward Flagstaff and then down I‑17 to Sedona.

 

Jay was disappointed; he’s flown over the canyon many times and remembers how stunning it looks from above. I looked forward to it too although I’ll admit, part of me felt that familiar flutter of nerves. I’ve been on enough narrow mountain roads in Greece and Africa to know that “scenic” can also mean “white‑knuckle.” Gorgeous, yes—but when you’re the passenger staring straight down a canyon wall, hoping no one comes around a blind curve too fast, it’s hard to fully relax and enjoy the view.

 

We decided to stop at a winery before checking into our hotel in Sedona, since check‑in times these days are rarely early, especially during peak tourist season when rooms take longer to turn over. DA Ranch Winery, just about twenty minutes outside Sedona, made for an easy and perfectly relaxing first stop. The “DA” stands for Delta Alpha, a nod to the original cattle bred on the ranch back in the 1800s. Today, the property operates as an estate winery, meaning every grape is grown right on their own land and they handle the entire winemaking and bottling process themselves. They proudly highlight how this approach gives their wines a consistent Verde Valley character—ripe fruit, warm‑climate aromatics, and bold, expressive reds.

 

DA Ranch felt laid‑back. Wide green lawns stretch beneath towering cottonwoods, and the vineyards roll gently toward the red rock hills. The historic ranch buildings and quiet pond give the place a warm, rustic charm. And of course, the wandering goats add a playful touch. This reminded us of our favorite winery ever... Goats Do Roam in Paarl, South Africa where we sat outside on the patio and sampled wine and cheese while watching the goats roam, climb, or nap around us.

 

The moment we arrived, the whole place was alive — a fishing derby on one side, live music drifting through the air, a food truck parked nearby, and wine tasting everywhere you turned. They were also running an Arizona‑style event called the Cottontail Cotton Candy Experience. We watched the cotton candy being spun like magic and tried wild flavors like whiskey‑inspired and Earl Grey. Forget that cotton candy is basically pure sugar with artificial dyes and zero nutritional value. It doesn’t matter — the fun was the point.

 

Once the sugar rush hit, we made our way to our hotel in Sedona. At our hotel El Portal we reserved the Garden room. El Portal is an adobe boutique hotel in Sedona that feels more like a private, arts‑and‑crafts–style residence than a traditional hotel. It’s known for its warm Southwestern architecture and courtyard gardens. Of course, the best part is 2-minute walk to Tlaquepaque (Tiock-a pock-ee) an artsy little shopping village packed with Mexican charm, fountains, courtyards, upscale boutiques, restaurants, jewelry and boho clothes; all the unique gifts you don’t need, until you see them and suddenly you can’t leave without.

It’s Saturday night and the place is jam-packed and 93 degrees. Too hot for a full meal but not too hot for Oak Creek Brewery’s famous fries and trio of sauces, horseradish, chipotle ranch and ketchup. I mean, what else do you need?

Tomorrow we will explore some of the local trails.